The Demon Who Fell to Earth
by IronAmerica
Summary: The Blackout affected more than just the average human's way of life. It got the demons too. Luckily, there were some upsides...


Hey, it's a new story! Lucifer's dealt with worse than being depowered.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

- o – o -

The Demon Who Fell To Earth and was Not Happy About It

If, two years ago, someone had asked Lucifer-Prince of the Damned, the Morning Star, and the Brightest Star in the Heavens, among other sundry titles-what he would have been doing at three in the morning, he would not have said "playing house with two humans and completely ignoring the apocalypse". Of course, two years ago, he hadn't been expecting the blackout to happen and strip him of all of his powers, putting him at the mercy of _humans_. (He wasn't happy about it. He'd spent the first six weeks of the blackout devising various tortures he'd inflict on whoever had caused it. The kindest was evisceration pulled out over the course of several long weeks.)

Two years ago, Lucifer had been quite prepared to break Sam Winchester down until the brat agreed to let him in—or, as his _charming_ brother Dean had put it, use Sam as a "human-shaped condom". How delightful.

Now, though, he was more than content to pretend to be Jeremy Baker, former student at the University of Chicago. It was fun. Miles and Bass were fun—good sense of humor, good sense for torture and mayhem, fun in the sack…. The list went on, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face when he thought about it.

That being said, waking up with a shotgun in his face was _not_ his preferred method of waking up, or even his normal one. (Meg and Ruby might have enjoyed it, but he hadn't seen them in two years, so who the hell knew?) Jeremy sighed and pushed the shotgun out of his face as he flopped back against the pillow.

"Can this wait to a decent hour? Say….never?" he groaned tiredly, thinking it was one of the numerous rebel leaders Miles and Bass had been worried about. One of his bedmates shifted, grumbling something obscene sleepily into his chest. Bass, Jeremy decided after feeling around the general area of the other man's head. Curly hair was Bass. Which meant, he decided through the haze of a mild hangover, he and Miles had had a lot of fun with the president of the Monroe Republic last night…

"Get up," the man hissed. Jeremy groaned in annoyance and sat up, dislodging Bass in the process. Bass muttered something obscene and turned the other way, curling up against Miles instead, who was at least still asleep. The former Lord of the Damned (well, he still _was_, but Bass and Miles didn't need to know that) looked at his unwanted visitors a little more closesly.

"Oh, of _course_ it had to be _you_ _two_," Jeremy grumbled in annoyance as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. It said something about how much he'd visited the Winchester brothers before the blackout (and his own lack of self-consciousness where his borrowed body was concerned) that he could walk around naked in front of them. Neither of them were blushing, which said something about the rumors about them. (That, or the persistent rumors were true, and one of the brothers had been screwing—or still _was_—screwing the now-wingless wonder, Castiel.)

"You know what's great about the blackout, Nick?" Dean asked, smiling. Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

"Should I care?" Jeremy replied, stretching and walking over to the sideboard. For a human, Miles had good taste in booze. He poured himself a glass of bourbon and leaned against the wooden cabinet, one arm crossed over his chest. Dean still had the shotgun pointed at his chest, which really was kind of annoying, Jeremy decided.

"Yeah. It's a lot easier to kill you," Dean said. He was smirking.

Jeremy rolled his eyes again and gestured at the bed he'd been forced to vacate. "Do you mind getting this over with?" he asked. "Bass is going to wake up soon, and he's always a randy bastard at…four in the morning," the fallen angel commented, checking his pocket watch. "Actually, so is Miles…" he continued, eyeing the general's naked form with an appreciative eye.

"Why haven't you gone back to hell?" Sam asked, cutting in on Lucifer's musings. The fallen angel took a sip of his drink, smirking. The younger Winchester brother swallowed nervously, hand going to his hip. The Colt. Of course. That had hurt the last time he'd been shot with it…

Jeremy shot both brothers a dark look that promised painful retribution. "If you think I'm going back to politics after sex with those two, you're nuts. By the way…"

Dean and Sam had a second to look worried before Jeremy pulled out his new, powerless bag of tricks. The window was _never_ going to be repaired. Not easily, anyways.

"Threesomes are fucking fantastic."

Jeremy went back to bed after draining the scotch. Bass was awake. Jeremy had been right, of course—Bass was always randy in the morning, even after the five previous rounds of sex the night before. Miles was just as bad.

But hell, if his pet humans wanted to, who was he to not indulge their favorite sin?

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Is Jeremy actually a depowered Lucifer or does he just look/sound/act suspiciously similar? Drop a line and let me know!

A/N: Dedicated to 3988Akasha over on tumblr for making me finally post this. Also, technically, this is a crossover with Supernatural.


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